Quicksand
by NotasuSama
Summary: Love, hesitation and indecision.


Okay, so… I've never done anything like this before. This was partially inspired by "Hills like White Elephants" by Hemingway. By 'partially inspired,' I mean I thought it up in class while the proff rambled on about symbolism and 'neutral-omniscience,' a 3rd person point of view style I had never tried before. I figured I'd give it a shot. I hope I did it well… I guess I'll find out when and if I get any reviews.

It was daylight, but only just. The winds kicked up small clouds of sand outside the lone window of a dark room, lit only by the sun beginning to peak over the horizon and the burning embers of a very recently put-out cigarette. A man in black pants sat on the bed, looking outward toward where the sun was rising over the vastness of the desert, his expression blank. He made no acknowledgement of the girl behind him, stirring as she began to wake. Before long, she sat up in bed, the blanket falling to her waist, and she turned to lean on the man from behind.

"You know…" she said, pressing herself into his back, "I really hate it when you smoke in my room."

"No, you don't," he replied plainly. His gaze never left the window. She looked over to her dresser, where the flowers he had brought her were sitting in a small vase, and smiled.

"I guess it's okay if you keep bringing me presents." She set her chin on his shoulder, glancing out at the world beyond the room they shared. "What are you thinking about?"

"Such a girlish question…" he muttered. "I've never known you to be girly. What's the occasion?" The direction of his vision still did not change, but his eyes softened slightly.

"Answering a question with another question? That's not exactly like you either, you know," she teased playfully. "Really, what's on your mind? You look like you're lost in your own little world."

He hesitated a moment, only a moment, before answering "…Quicksand."

She laughed. It was almost a giggle, but not quite. "Quicksand? You have a phobia or something?" She removed herself from him and rose from their bed to dress. "Anyway, we don't have any of that around here. The only 'quick' sand I've ever seen is my brother's." He gave no response.

A few minutes passed before he broke his gaze away from the desert for the first time to look at her. He had turned just in time to see her adjusting the simple cloth that served as an obi over her plain black kimono. To her left, leaning against the wall, was her tall and imposing combat fan. It was opened slightly, revealing the first star. There was enough light entering through the window now that cast a shadow, one that ran from the base of the fan and up the wall, bending slightly where the wall met the floor. His eyes rested on where the shadow touched the fan for a moment, only a moment, before rising from his spot on the side of the bed.

He was nearly dressed when she found his hitai-ate under a shirt that she had, rather mischievously, discarded the night before. She tossed it in his direction with no warning, and he saw it coming too late to keep it from knocking over the vase, the water and flowers spilling onto the floor. She groaned. "Useless man…"

"Troublesome woman," was his only response. He turned to clean up the mess she had made.

One of the flowers had landed right beneath her fan, directly on top of its shadow, which was becoming darker and darker as time passed. He hesitated for a moment, only a moment, his eyes locked on the lone flower resting on the shadow. He stole another quick glance out the window before quickly picking it up and placing it with the rest of its kind in the vase.

"Let's get moving. He hates it when people show up late." She stood in the doorway, looking at him expectantly. Her arms were folded over her chest and her eyes had hardened slightly, and she was once again looking every part the kunoichi instead of the womanly figure she had been just moments before. He quickly crossed the room, stopping for a moment, only a moment, to look one more time out the window and across the desert to the east. He let out a sound that was not quite a sigh but not quite a groan and lit another cigarette.


End file.
